Einen Blumeladen?
/A Flower Shop?/
Standard disclaimers apply!
The shifting of flowers caught his attention and he didn't have to turn, but he let a small smile creep up his features. At last, the busy day was over.
Ken and Aya left hours earlier to get ready for a mission, and so the two of them had been swamped with a sudden wedding reception order. They could have refused, but the younger boy insisted they accept it. He was always more into these things. The tall figure cramped the tip of his cigarette to an aluminun ashtray and set trimming roots aside. With a half-leer, half-welcome he glanced to his side, inwardly wondering what took his hug so long.
As soon as he turned his head small arms encircled his waist and pulled him close, heaving a weary sigh on his back. The boy was tired, but he could sense a smile on the pressed face. He leaned backward a bit and separated the hands hooked over his chest and kissed both fists.
"You seem tired. Why don't you sit down, I'll clean up first and then we can leave." The boy slid forward under his arm and looked up with a bright grin, arm not leaving his waist. "We'll finish faster if we work together. Ne, I'm not so tired Yoji-niichan."
A brow raised from the tinted lenses. "Not tired eh?" A blush covered the soft cheeks and the boy squirmed in place shyly. "Ie."
Deft fingers slid against the expectant lower lip, and a sigh escaped the tiny parting. The green eyes danced over the young face, wistfully considering his luck upon being able to hold it so closely that warm breath touched the contours of his face. The blue pools lidded as the boy pressed tighter, and he stared in awe
"Niisan?"
Oh, yes, that. He was almost lost there again, in that wonderful feeling, like a dream. A dream so perfect, it could not possibly be true, that you start to feel afraid of waking up so you stop moving, stop breathing, stop your entire world completely to see the beauty unfold before you.
But, of course, the dream was real, and waiting, and he delved into those supple lips like wild flowers to water, drinking in as much as in can in order to survive, wanting to stay there as long as it can because his life depended on it. He did not know how, but clearly, the boy was now too much a part of him; he could never let this go.
"Not tired are you? Think you can still risk being alone with me?"
He felt a smile break from the lips still pressed against his, and instinctively pulled tighter. "I'll live."
Yoji felt the edge of the working table press against his lower back and the sweet lips were just beginning to part for him when the back door broke open, both florists jumping up and apart, winded. "Man, what a nigh…oh…" Ken's jaw almost touched the floor, a soundless gasp.
They all stood there, facing each other, at loss for words, embarrassment pulling their line of sight away from each other. Finally, Yoji found himself obliged to break the ice, as always. "So, how'd it go?"
"Mission accomplished." A low voice came from Ken's back as Aya just entered the room, conveniently a few minutes late. Yoji shrugged, turning to resume tidying up. "But of course…"
Omi studied a nearby potted fern intently, bangs covering his face intentionally.
Ken, with a peculiar expression on his face, bolted out of the room, scurrying towards Aya and pushing the taller man aside, grateful for the interjection that occurred before he blundered into some sort of apology but discomfited nonetheless.
Aya acted as if he didn't feel anything, but brushed his sleeve immediately, fingers lingering on the point of contact, ever so slightly. Not enough to touch.
Honey locks clung to the side of his face and neck but his arms were too heavy to lift and brush them off. A small hand, as if reading his mind, volunteered to do it for him, palm promptly resting on his cheek after before retreating to his chest. He could hear the boy quietly panting, and reveled in the feel of the quick heartbeat so close to his.
They've been lying down motionless for some time that Yoji might think his lover asleep, but he knew the boy too well to make that assumption. Both of them enjoyed the moment too much, and would always stretch the aftermath of their love-making for as long as possible, bodies cuddling to each other for the much needed assurance that they were still there, alive, together. Just the two of them.
Finally the smaller boy stirred, always the one first, and Yoji's slender fingers made their way down the graceful arch of his back to write his name and such.
"Yoji-niichan?" There was a breathess quality to Omi's voice, but he tried to speak as clearly as he could. It was somewhat important. "What do you think about Ken-niisan?"
Yoji made a false shrug. "Ken Hidaka… brown hair, brown shirt. Cute butt…" A fist hit his gut lightly and Omi made a whimpering sound, with Yoji breaking out into a deep, sudden laugh. "Yoji-niichan!"
Yoji eased his folly, giving the question more consideration. "You mean, about him seeing us?" Omi nodded. "Hai. I'm sure he knows now."
Yoji stared at the ceiling, recalling how their Weiss teammate had walked in on them in the flower shop, attached to one another from head to foot - short of wiping out pots and plants from the working table and going for it right there and then. Ken's reaction was to be expected, and at one time or another in the past he knew the boy had witnessed subtler signs of their bishounen ai relationship. Of course this time he could not play dumb any more; what Yohji considered more was the fact that he and his Omi would not have to hide it.
"I'm glad." Omi's head jerked upwards a little, not expecting the answer. "Ne?" Yohji smiled, letting his fingers entwine in baby-fine strands and tug at them lightly. "I'm glad I can show you off." He kissed the damp forehead slowly and kept his lips there as he murmured. "Glad to show the whole fucking world how lucky I am." The embrace around his chest loosened except for curling fingers on his side that gripped him almost painfully. "Koi… Yoji, do you mean that?"
Yoji snorted, throat constricting, suddenly nervous. He was at it again; flattery was always his cruising companion, but never, never after the score. Sex had always given him an inclination for dominance and control, but now…
Now he had learned how to give instead of take, and he felt more vulnerable than ever before. He was learning trust again, and it frightened him as much as he hated to admit it. He pulled the small body closer, drawing strength from it, something that seemed so small and precious to him, as if it was his heart in his hands. He inhaled deeply, letting the crisp, wonderful fragrance of his lover fill his senses. Slowly, sensually, he whispered. "Yes…"
He felt avid arms tighten once more, and a leg draped over his, so that… Yoji, leered at his younger lover, finding a leeway to escape the overwhelming urge to say something stupid, like /I already love you Omi, I know it./. He slid his hand down along the spine until it rested on the curve below, and slowly slipped a finger between the rosy parting found there. Omi giggled all of the sudden, in contrast to Yoji's anticipated moan. "I knew there was a catch!"
Yohji found his libido growling at the cute accusation, and ultimately relocated his emotions towards more concrete accomplishments. He rolled the boy over swiftly, arms pinning shoulders and thigh directly rubbing between the boy's legs. "Damn you know everything you smart kid!" He took Omi's reply in his mouth and closed his eyes, just wanting, taking, giving…
"You. I need you damn it."
I say it, but no sound comes out and I am compelled to just stare at the unforgiving face, so perfectly expressionless while he is sleeping. I just stare, not even walking nearer, keeping my distance up to now, but give in to the urge of picking up his shirt, hastily cast into a chair, and hold it close as I watch the rise and fall of the lean chest it clung to just hours ago.
I carress the fabric, kiss it, embrace it, relish it, envy it. God I love his scent. I press it to myself, almost crushing it, until harsh reality snaps me in the face like an interrupted dream.
I heard the shifting between sheets but ignored it in my reverie, and a deep murmur was my penalty.
"What are you doing here?"
I stand up in attention, turning my heels to leave. "I was just, um, collecting your laundry." He makes a sound of disbelief, not out of suspiscion but more of confusion. "Ne, what time is it?"
I stand by the door, back turned against him. "If I don't wash it now it'll be harder to remove the blood tomorrow. Go back to sleep." I reply curtly.
A decent resolution, I tell myself, atleast on such brief notice. My heart pounded like mad in my chest but still a sigh breaks through my nervousness. Damn that was close. Nevermind that I had an explanation; being caught in someone else's room in the core of midnight fondling a shirt is not a respectable situation, especially if the door was locked before you got there. I just expect him not to remember this in the morning. Then again, he's not going to care, anyway…
And I've got his shirt to sleep close to all night.
Omi's eyes shifted eagerly between the two boys, mashing his rice unconsciously with his chopsticks. Aya wasn't arriving until 4:00, and they had the perfect opportunity to ask Ken about their situation. He and Yoji had been planning this the whole morning, but now it seems neither of thyem could cough up a word. He counted on Yohji to do it, always the bolder one, but it was almost as if… as if he forgot?
Omi sighed. They'd be done eating soon. Maybe he should just ask, and then it'd be over. "Ne, Ken-niisan, there's something we want to ask you." The brown-haired bot looked up from his Yakisoba, mouth full of noodles and eyebrows lifted slightly in anticipation. He knew this was coming.
"You see, um, Yoji-ni… Yoji and I, er…" He groped for words, almost choking as embarrassment crept up to color his cheeks. "We're, um…"
"Lovers."
Omi cast a startled glance beside him and gave a small smile of gratitude. He could not repeat the statement though. "Yes, that."
Ken kept his eyes on his food, not bothering to stop cramming it into his mouth in order to avoid having to speak as much as possible. "So?" Omi turned pleading eyes at Yoji, begging his to take over. Yoji simply nodded.
"Omi's just worried that you're some sort of bastard who'd give a shit." Omi's face turned brighter, exasperated at the statement. "Ano! Chotto, ne…" Yoji placed a retraining hand over Omi's, and the simple gesture caught Ken's attention enough to make him stop stuffing his face.
"You two must really be perverts." Blue and green shot at the accusatory voice, in hurt and defense, respectively. Omi was about to snivel something out when a light hand covered his and Yoji's, grasping tighter. "Which really isn't a bad thing…" A small smirk tugged at the corners of Ken's mouth, and he let himself the pleasure of seeing he two agitated faces light up.
"Baka yarou! You almost made Omi-chan cry!" Omi squeeled in protest. "He did not!" "Yeah, yeah…"
Ken returned to his food. "I've always known, actually." The two boys halted, Omi mid-scream and Yoji with his hand over the small face.
"You did?" Ken smiled, eyes disappearing into shut slits. "Why ever else would Yoji's bed be empty so early in the morning?" Yoji chuckled and Omi clamped a hand over his mouth.
Ken suddenly furrowed his brows, addressing a question. "Although Omi-chan, why do you still keep calling Yoji brother?" Omi snickered, scratching his head. "I think it's just sweet. I feel so protected."
Ken shrugged, turning to Yoji. "And you? Same reason?" Yoji blew a curl of white smoke to the side of his face. "Turns me on."
Omi sputtered, turning red, and Ken threw an exasperated punch at the lean arm. "Kisama ,you really are hentai!!! It's a good thing I never called you that!"
He glanced nervously at Omi. "Er, I don't suppose you call me…" Omi flicked him a wink, and strangled voice escaped Ken as both lovers laughed.
Ken and Omi kept up the small chitchat until Yoji suddenly peered through the dark lenses to address at Ken. "You know, Ken, there are a million places I could be in during thoses mornings; why'd you immediately conclude Omi's bed?" Omi stared at him, confused, and Ken plainly shrugged. "Just thought so. I always suspected that you were after him." Omi's eyes widened. Yoji leered at him, eyes glinting, before shifting the look towards Ken. "Takes one to know one…"
Ken looked back in aghast. "What?" Yoji lit a cigarette. "You heard me." Omi stared at both boys, looking back and forth in curiosity before his expression melted into realization. "You mean… Oh…"
Ken glared at Omi, then Yoji, hands weighing on the table indignantly. "Oi! Quit implying ideas to Omi-chan!" Yoji blew smoke towards his direction. "I didn't imply it. You did."
Ken grabbed his bowl, standing up to avoid the inevitable flow of their conversation. "Whatever."
I'm so sleepy… School used to be so easy, but now with Yohji-kun around I seem to be, yawn… It's my fault, too, I guess. He told me to go to sleep already last night, but he was so nice and warm I couldn't just…
These are the best days of my life. It's can't get any better than this – I know it. Me and my Yoji and Weiss; they are my family now. It's great; you know sometimes people mistake me and Ken-niisan as brothers? Me and Aya-niisan. Me and my Yoji! But that I can understand why. Yoji-niichan is a very private person and isn't about to let people pry on our relationship, but he can sometimes be a very affectionate man; he usually places a hand on my lower back while we are walking or holds my wrist. I call him niisan most of the time anyway so we can get away with little things like that, and sharing an ice cream cone. It feels good to be able to have him close even when we are in public. It almost feels like we are… nani? Page 133?
Oh no, sixteen paragraphs of chemical reactions. Groan, my eyes are lidding already at the mere thought. Better take a nap when I get home so I can have time for Yoji later. Good thing Aya-niisan's in charge of the laundry this week…
"Oi Yoji move these pots down stairs."
"You move 'em." A kick nudged the plactic chair and the clippers almost split the rose stem in half. "Geez Aya can't you wait?" Yoji dropped the injured flower and stood up, scratching his head and smiling sheepishly at the sight of the boxes piled high in Aya's grip. "Oh."
"What's in the boxes?" Aya grunted, ignoring the question as he carefully laid the load on the floor. "Oi man, speak."
"Shut up."
Yoji made a face. "Hn. That only works with Ken."
"What?"
Yoji went back to his trimming, hand shaking in the air to dismiss the topic. "Nothing, nothing..."
There, good as new. Don't want any claws stuck in someone's chest while there's more to kill, right? Nice and shiny, too. It should be, I've been working on it for over an hour.
I'm thirsty. Wonder if there's still some of that chocolate sports drink Omi buys. Guess the taste sort of grows on you. Nice and cold… Maybe I should head for the shop. Aya's stuck there alone with Yoji, who can't even curl ribbons with scissors up to now. Yeah, yeah, sure, Omi's gonna be home in a short while; maybe I could send Yoji home to his boy early. He's not much of a help anyway.
Yeah, yeah… Then I get to be alone with Aya and we could work on the funeral arrangement for tomorrow. Hope he doesn't get into a sulking fit again and insist on using those awful violet blooms. I don't think they should even be called flowers. Then again, he's always in a bad mood.
"Aya-niisan?"
The moonlit outline didn't move, until a small hand rested on his back and a pair of blue eyes sought the wistful ones. "Omi."
The boy looked out into the view from where Aya had been staring out, perched permanently on the sill with his legs hanging outward. They kept quiet for some time, just thinking, watching the world go by with a keen sense of wondering, listening to the sounds they so frequently extinguished. Omi rested his head on the deceptively slender shoulder, doing so much as to rub against the smooth skin.
"Well?" It wasn't agitated, or impatient it any way, just curious. The deep voice hung in the cold air until Omi glanced sideways, eyes closing and hand flicking lightly at the ends of the crimson sidelocks. He gave his warmest, most sincere smile, waiting patiently until finally Aya's expression softened, indiscernible to anyone except for the hopeful young boy. He made a small bow and let go of the red strands.
"Oyasumi Nasai niisan."
The boy always did have a soft spot in his heart, warming the gap his younger sister had left open and vacant, to the point of allowing the young one to call him brother; not that Omi would make a case if Aya rejected the term, but somehow Aya did not want to hurt the boy's feeling's and didn't argue, atleast. Aya looked out towards the city, dim lights glowing on his face, then cocked his head back when he heared footsteps set to leave.
"Omi-chan, that's it?"
"Hai. Night-night."
Omi walked towards his room, smiling faintly. He knew, Aya would follow, soon.
Tasuki: I don't get it.
Kenchin: It's just a starting fic Tasuki-kun. I helped write it. What do you think?
Tasuki: Maybe you should add sum'more citrus…
Aki: /Pushes a red-faced, sweatropping rurouni back to his room/ Tasuki-kun, must your mind always dwell THERE?
Tasuki: Well, with Nuriko sharing my room…
Aki: /Covers Kenchin's ears./ Save it for your fic and get out of this one before I get Sanosuke!
Tasuki: A'ight, a'ight!
/A Flower Shop?/
Standard disclaimers apply!
The shifting of flowers caught his attention and he didn't have to turn, but he let a small smile creep up his features. At last, the busy day was over.
Ken and Aya left hours earlier to get ready for a mission, and so the two of them had been swamped with a sudden wedding reception order. They could have refused, but the younger boy insisted they accept it. He was always more into these things. The tall figure cramped the tip of his cigarette to an aluminun ashtray and set trimming roots aside. With a half-leer, half-welcome he glanced to his side, inwardly wondering what took his hug so long.
As soon as he turned his head small arms encircled his waist and pulled him close, heaving a weary sigh on his back. The boy was tired, but he could sense a smile on the pressed face. He leaned backward a bit and separated the hands hooked over his chest and kissed both fists.
"You seem tired. Why don't you sit down, I'll clean up first and then we can leave." The boy slid forward under his arm and looked up with a bright grin, arm not leaving his waist. "We'll finish faster if we work together. Ne, I'm not so tired Yoji-niichan."
A brow raised from the tinted lenses. "Not tired eh?" A blush covered the soft cheeks and the boy squirmed in place shyly. "Ie."
Deft fingers slid against the expectant lower lip, and a sigh escaped the tiny parting. The green eyes danced over the young face, wistfully considering his luck upon being able to hold it so closely that warm breath touched the contours of his face. The blue pools lidded as the boy pressed tighter, and he stared in awe
"Niisan?"
Oh, yes, that. He was almost lost there again, in that wonderful feeling, like a dream. A dream so perfect, it could not possibly be true, that you start to feel afraid of waking up so you stop moving, stop breathing, stop your entire world completely to see the beauty unfold before you.
But, of course, the dream was real, and waiting, and he delved into those supple lips like wild flowers to water, drinking in as much as in can in order to survive, wanting to stay there as long as it can because his life depended on it. He did not know how, but clearly, the boy was now too much a part of him; he could never let this go.
"Not tired are you? Think you can still risk being alone with me?"
He felt a smile break from the lips still pressed against his, and instinctively pulled tighter. "I'll live."
Yoji felt the edge of the working table press against his lower back and the sweet lips were just beginning to part for him when the back door broke open, both florists jumping up and apart, winded. "Man, what a nigh…oh…" Ken's jaw almost touched the floor, a soundless gasp.
They all stood there, facing each other, at loss for words, embarrassment pulling their line of sight away from each other. Finally, Yoji found himself obliged to break the ice, as always. "So, how'd it go?"
"Mission accomplished." A low voice came from Ken's back as Aya just entered the room, conveniently a few minutes late. Yoji shrugged, turning to resume tidying up. "But of course…"
Omi studied a nearby potted fern intently, bangs covering his face intentionally.
Ken, with a peculiar expression on his face, bolted out of the room, scurrying towards Aya and pushing the taller man aside, grateful for the interjection that occurred before he blundered into some sort of apology but discomfited nonetheless.
Aya acted as if he didn't feel anything, but brushed his sleeve immediately, fingers lingering on the point of contact, ever so slightly. Not enough to touch.
Honey locks clung to the side of his face and neck but his arms were too heavy to lift and brush them off. A small hand, as if reading his mind, volunteered to do it for him, palm promptly resting on his cheek after before retreating to his chest. He could hear the boy quietly panting, and reveled in the feel of the quick heartbeat so close to his.
They've been lying down motionless for some time that Yoji might think his lover asleep, but he knew the boy too well to make that assumption. Both of them enjoyed the moment too much, and would always stretch the aftermath of their love-making for as long as possible, bodies cuddling to each other for the much needed assurance that they were still there, alive, together. Just the two of them.
Finally the smaller boy stirred, always the one first, and Yoji's slender fingers made their way down the graceful arch of his back to write his name and such.
"Yoji-niichan?" There was a breathess quality to Omi's voice, but he tried to speak as clearly as he could. It was somewhat important. "What do you think about Ken-niisan?"
Yoji made a false shrug. "Ken Hidaka… brown hair, brown shirt. Cute butt…" A fist hit his gut lightly and Omi made a whimpering sound, with Yoji breaking out into a deep, sudden laugh. "Yoji-niichan!"
Yoji eased his folly, giving the question more consideration. "You mean, about him seeing us?" Omi nodded. "Hai. I'm sure he knows now."
Yoji stared at the ceiling, recalling how their Weiss teammate had walked in on them in the flower shop, attached to one another from head to foot - short of wiping out pots and plants from the working table and going for it right there and then. Ken's reaction was to be expected, and at one time or another in the past he knew the boy had witnessed subtler signs of their bishounen ai relationship. Of course this time he could not play dumb any more; what Yohji considered more was the fact that he and his Omi would not have to hide it.
"I'm glad." Omi's head jerked upwards a little, not expecting the answer. "Ne?" Yohji smiled, letting his fingers entwine in baby-fine strands and tug at them lightly. "I'm glad I can show you off." He kissed the damp forehead slowly and kept his lips there as he murmured. "Glad to show the whole fucking world how lucky I am." The embrace around his chest loosened except for curling fingers on his side that gripped him almost painfully. "Koi… Yoji, do you mean that?"
Yoji snorted, throat constricting, suddenly nervous. He was at it again; flattery was always his cruising companion, but never, never after the score. Sex had always given him an inclination for dominance and control, but now…
Now he had learned how to give instead of take, and he felt more vulnerable than ever before. He was learning trust again, and it frightened him as much as he hated to admit it. He pulled the small body closer, drawing strength from it, something that seemed so small and precious to him, as if it was his heart in his hands. He inhaled deeply, letting the crisp, wonderful fragrance of his lover fill his senses. Slowly, sensually, he whispered. "Yes…"
He felt avid arms tighten once more, and a leg draped over his, so that… Yoji, leered at his younger lover, finding a leeway to escape the overwhelming urge to say something stupid, like /I already love you Omi, I know it./. He slid his hand down along the spine until it rested on the curve below, and slowly slipped a finger between the rosy parting found there. Omi giggled all of the sudden, in contrast to Yoji's anticipated moan. "I knew there was a catch!"
Yohji found his libido growling at the cute accusation, and ultimately relocated his emotions towards more concrete accomplishments. He rolled the boy over swiftly, arms pinning shoulders and thigh directly rubbing between the boy's legs. "Damn you know everything you smart kid!" He took Omi's reply in his mouth and closed his eyes, just wanting, taking, giving…
"You. I need you damn it."
I say it, but no sound comes out and I am compelled to just stare at the unforgiving face, so perfectly expressionless while he is sleeping. I just stare, not even walking nearer, keeping my distance up to now, but give in to the urge of picking up his shirt, hastily cast into a chair, and hold it close as I watch the rise and fall of the lean chest it clung to just hours ago.
I carress the fabric, kiss it, embrace it, relish it, envy it. God I love his scent. I press it to myself, almost crushing it, until harsh reality snaps me in the face like an interrupted dream.
I heard the shifting between sheets but ignored it in my reverie, and a deep murmur was my penalty.
"What are you doing here?"
I stand up in attention, turning my heels to leave. "I was just, um, collecting your laundry." He makes a sound of disbelief, not out of suspiscion but more of confusion. "Ne, what time is it?"
I stand by the door, back turned against him. "If I don't wash it now it'll be harder to remove the blood tomorrow. Go back to sleep." I reply curtly.
A decent resolution, I tell myself, atleast on such brief notice. My heart pounded like mad in my chest but still a sigh breaks through my nervousness. Damn that was close. Nevermind that I had an explanation; being caught in someone else's room in the core of midnight fondling a shirt is not a respectable situation, especially if the door was locked before you got there. I just expect him not to remember this in the morning. Then again, he's not going to care, anyway…
And I've got his shirt to sleep close to all night.
Omi's eyes shifted eagerly between the two boys, mashing his rice unconsciously with his chopsticks. Aya wasn't arriving until 4:00, and they had the perfect opportunity to ask Ken about their situation. He and Yoji had been planning this the whole morning, but now it seems neither of thyem could cough up a word. He counted on Yohji to do it, always the bolder one, but it was almost as if… as if he forgot?
Omi sighed. They'd be done eating soon. Maybe he should just ask, and then it'd be over. "Ne, Ken-niisan, there's something we want to ask you." The brown-haired bot looked up from his Yakisoba, mouth full of noodles and eyebrows lifted slightly in anticipation. He knew this was coming.
"You see, um, Yoji-ni… Yoji and I, er…" He groped for words, almost choking as embarrassment crept up to color his cheeks. "We're, um…"
"Lovers."
Omi cast a startled glance beside him and gave a small smile of gratitude. He could not repeat the statement though. "Yes, that."
Ken kept his eyes on his food, not bothering to stop cramming it into his mouth in order to avoid having to speak as much as possible. "So?" Omi turned pleading eyes at Yoji, begging his to take over. Yoji simply nodded.
"Omi's just worried that you're some sort of bastard who'd give a shit." Omi's face turned brighter, exasperated at the statement. "Ano! Chotto, ne…" Yoji placed a retraining hand over Omi's, and the simple gesture caught Ken's attention enough to make him stop stuffing his face.
"You two must really be perverts." Blue and green shot at the accusatory voice, in hurt and defense, respectively. Omi was about to snivel something out when a light hand covered his and Yoji's, grasping tighter. "Which really isn't a bad thing…" A small smirk tugged at the corners of Ken's mouth, and he let himself the pleasure of seeing he two agitated faces light up.
"Baka yarou! You almost made Omi-chan cry!" Omi squeeled in protest. "He did not!" "Yeah, yeah…"
Ken returned to his food. "I've always known, actually." The two boys halted, Omi mid-scream and Yoji with his hand over the small face.
"You did?" Ken smiled, eyes disappearing into shut slits. "Why ever else would Yoji's bed be empty so early in the morning?" Yoji chuckled and Omi clamped a hand over his mouth.
Ken suddenly furrowed his brows, addressing a question. "Although Omi-chan, why do you still keep calling Yoji brother?" Omi snickered, scratching his head. "I think it's just sweet. I feel so protected."
Ken shrugged, turning to Yoji. "And you? Same reason?" Yoji blew a curl of white smoke to the side of his face. "Turns me on."
Omi sputtered, turning red, and Ken threw an exasperated punch at the lean arm. "Kisama ,you really are hentai!!! It's a good thing I never called you that!"
He glanced nervously at Omi. "Er, I don't suppose you call me…" Omi flicked him a wink, and strangled voice escaped Ken as both lovers laughed.
Ken and Omi kept up the small chitchat until Yoji suddenly peered through the dark lenses to address at Ken. "You know, Ken, there are a million places I could be in during thoses mornings; why'd you immediately conclude Omi's bed?" Omi stared at him, confused, and Ken plainly shrugged. "Just thought so. I always suspected that you were after him." Omi's eyes widened. Yoji leered at him, eyes glinting, before shifting the look towards Ken. "Takes one to know one…"
Ken looked back in aghast. "What?" Yoji lit a cigarette. "You heard me." Omi stared at both boys, looking back and forth in curiosity before his expression melted into realization. "You mean… Oh…"
Ken glared at Omi, then Yoji, hands weighing on the table indignantly. "Oi! Quit implying ideas to Omi-chan!" Yoji blew smoke towards his direction. "I didn't imply it. You did."
Ken grabbed his bowl, standing up to avoid the inevitable flow of their conversation. "Whatever."
I'm so sleepy… School used to be so easy, but now with Yohji-kun around I seem to be, yawn… It's my fault, too, I guess. He told me to go to sleep already last night, but he was so nice and warm I couldn't just…
These are the best days of my life. It's can't get any better than this – I know it. Me and my Yoji and Weiss; they are my family now. It's great; you know sometimes people mistake me and Ken-niisan as brothers? Me and Aya-niisan. Me and my Yoji! But that I can understand why. Yoji-niichan is a very private person and isn't about to let people pry on our relationship, but he can sometimes be a very affectionate man; he usually places a hand on my lower back while we are walking or holds my wrist. I call him niisan most of the time anyway so we can get away with little things like that, and sharing an ice cream cone. It feels good to be able to have him close even when we are in public. It almost feels like we are… nani? Page 133?
Oh no, sixteen paragraphs of chemical reactions. Groan, my eyes are lidding already at the mere thought. Better take a nap when I get home so I can have time for Yoji later. Good thing Aya-niisan's in charge of the laundry this week…
"Oi Yoji move these pots down stairs."
"You move 'em." A kick nudged the plactic chair and the clippers almost split the rose stem in half. "Geez Aya can't you wait?" Yoji dropped the injured flower and stood up, scratching his head and smiling sheepishly at the sight of the boxes piled high in Aya's grip. "Oh."
"What's in the boxes?" Aya grunted, ignoring the question as he carefully laid the load on the floor. "Oi man, speak."
"Shut up."
Yoji made a face. "Hn. That only works with Ken."
"What?"
Yoji went back to his trimming, hand shaking in the air to dismiss the topic. "Nothing, nothing..."
There, good as new. Don't want any claws stuck in someone's chest while there's more to kill, right? Nice and shiny, too. It should be, I've been working on it for over an hour.
I'm thirsty. Wonder if there's still some of that chocolate sports drink Omi buys. Guess the taste sort of grows on you. Nice and cold… Maybe I should head for the shop. Aya's stuck there alone with Yoji, who can't even curl ribbons with scissors up to now. Yeah, yeah, sure, Omi's gonna be home in a short while; maybe I could send Yoji home to his boy early. He's not much of a help anyway.
Yeah, yeah… Then I get to be alone with Aya and we could work on the funeral arrangement for tomorrow. Hope he doesn't get into a sulking fit again and insist on using those awful violet blooms. I don't think they should even be called flowers. Then again, he's always in a bad mood.
"Aya-niisan?"
The moonlit outline didn't move, until a small hand rested on his back and a pair of blue eyes sought the wistful ones. "Omi."
The boy looked out into the view from where Aya had been staring out, perched permanently on the sill with his legs hanging outward. They kept quiet for some time, just thinking, watching the world go by with a keen sense of wondering, listening to the sounds they so frequently extinguished. Omi rested his head on the deceptively slender shoulder, doing so much as to rub against the smooth skin.
"Well?" It wasn't agitated, or impatient it any way, just curious. The deep voice hung in the cold air until Omi glanced sideways, eyes closing and hand flicking lightly at the ends of the crimson sidelocks. He gave his warmest, most sincere smile, waiting patiently until finally Aya's expression softened, indiscernible to anyone except for the hopeful young boy. He made a small bow and let go of the red strands.
"Oyasumi Nasai niisan."
The boy always did have a soft spot in his heart, warming the gap his younger sister had left open and vacant, to the point of allowing the young one to call him brother; not that Omi would make a case if Aya rejected the term, but somehow Aya did not want to hurt the boy's feeling's and didn't argue, atleast. Aya looked out towards the city, dim lights glowing on his face, then cocked his head back when he heared footsteps set to leave.
"Omi-chan, that's it?"
"Hai. Night-night."
Omi walked towards his room, smiling faintly. He knew, Aya would follow, soon.
Tasuki: I don't get it.
Kenchin: It's just a starting fic Tasuki-kun. I helped write it. What do you think?
Tasuki: Maybe you should add sum'more citrus…
Aki: /Pushes a red-faced, sweatropping rurouni back to his room/ Tasuki-kun, must your mind always dwell THERE?
Tasuki: Well, with Nuriko sharing my room…
Aki: /Covers Kenchin's ears./ Save it for your fic and get out of this one before I get Sanosuke!
Tasuki: A'ight, a'ight!